


Dreaming Through the Darkness

by glorious_clio



Series: Inserted Scenes [5]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-17
Updated: 2010-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:12:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set hours after "A Clue; No."  A fluffy little tale of Robin and Marian being cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming Through the Darkness

Marian, tired of Nottingham, slipped to the stables and saddled a horse. She was drained by the proceedings in the castle. The aftermath of the Sheriff's plot confused her. Why the Council of Nobles re-declared loyalty to Vaisey after his treachery was bewildering. Why could he not be run out of the Shire? Along with Sir Guy?  _He_  had shown his true colors in Locksley chapel. Gisbourne did not love her; he wanted to possess her. To use her as… an indulgence. Marry a pure woman, get into heaven. Marian shuddered. _How ridiculous._

She spurred the horse into the forest, intending to find Robin. This action gave her new energy, at least for the moment. It had been a long day, and the wound in her side (another gift from Sir Guy) was still healing. She had only received it the day before yesterday. Coupled with the excitement the day had brought, Marian knew she should rest soon.

Sherwood was an unchanging palette of green, but Marian had practically grown up in it. She picked her way through some of Robin's favorite trails, hoping he and his men were watching and waiting for her.

They were.

Marian heard a bird's call, and a few moments later, Robin appeared out of the foliage.

"Welcome,  _Maid_  Marian," he greeted her.

She could not help but smile. She  _was_  still unmarried.

"Help me down, Robin. I am still injured, you know."

His face softened as he reached up to help her. Her feet did not even touch the forest floor before she was swept up in his embrace. Marian did not think to reprimand him, but instead, buried her face in his neck, smelling the scent of the forest and his sweat. As she breathed him in, the events of the past few days crashed into her. She was suddenly trembling at her own near death, and her near marriage, and at her father's near murder.

Robin sensed this and held her tighter (though he allowed her to stand on her own). He rubbed rhythmic circles over her back, his calloused fingers snagged on the fine embroidery of her gown. Robin whispered soothing nothings into her ear.

A few tears escaped, but she managed to get herself under control. She pulled back; Robin loosened his hold on her. He noticed the tears on her face and gently wiped them away. Marian was not usually one for them.

"You are safe with me," he told her.

She laughed. "No. I am not safe here with you."

Robin looked crestfallen. It was true, and they both knew it.

"But there is no place I would rather be," she clarified.

He clasped her to him again.

Her exhaustion hit her then, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She leaned into him and let him support her for a while. She knew Robin carried the weight of the world, or at least of Nottingham, on his shoulders. But she could not keep herself from doing it. She was so tired.

He shifted to catch her weight better, and then said "We should get you home. You have been busy the past few days."

She hummed in agreement, not quite willing to leave his arms.

"C'mon, Love," he shifted so she was obligated to take her own weight again, and then led her to the horse, helping her up. Robin swung up behind her, and took the reins. His elbows were resting against her waist, holding her upright. She leaned back into the solid wall of his chest, and the two left for Knighton Hall.

As they neared Knighton, Robin asked, "How are you feeling, Marian?" He was worried that the horse was jostling her too much.

"Fine," she murmured.

"And your wound?"

"Well enough. The stitching has not opened," she said, slurring her words in her exhaustion.

Soon they arrived. Robin helped Marian down again and handed the reins to the stable hand. If he seemed surprised to see Robin Hood at Knighton with the Lady Marian, the boy did not show it. Robin would always be grateful to the people of Nottingham for keeping their silence about his movements.

Wrapping an arm around the small of her back, he helped her into the house and up the stairs. It appeared that Sir Edward was still in Nottingham. As it was growing late, he would likely stay the night in the castle. Robin knew that Marian had no real lady's maid, so he resolved to make her comfortable, then to stay the night and keep watch over his love. While he knew Sir Edward would not return, Gisbourne might.

Once Marian was in her chamber, Robin went to fill a basin with water for her to wash with, while she changed from her gold almost-wedding dress into a night shift. When he came back with the water, he nearly tripped over a trunk.

"What is this?" he asked.

Marian shot him a glance that called him a fool.

"Oh," he said, setting the basin on the table. It was her trousseau, full of linens and clothing and other things that she meant to bring into her married life. Robin repressed the urge to kick the chest. She was not married, he reminded himself.

"I punched him, you know."

"What?"

"Gisbourne. At the altar. When I realized he was only marrying me to rectify his sins. I figured it out. I believe that he tried to kill King Richard. And that my father was not safe."

Robin laughed, "You punched him? In the  _chapel_?"

Marian did not answer. She had finished washing her hands and face. She pulled out a hair comb and set about taking out the snarls that had accumulated over the day. It was finally growing out a bit, for which, Robin was glad.

"You know, whenever I visited you at your window, you were almost always combing your hair," he told her.

She shook it out and set the comb on the table. "It takes a lot of work," she told him. She went to embrace him again, and her hands went to his hair. "You almost never comb yours," she informed him.

He brushed the fringe back from her face. "It does not need it."

"I see."

He was gently caressing her cheek now, and she sighed in delight. After a few moments, she leaned into him again, and Robin maneuvered her towards her bed. After tucking her into the blankets, he kissed her forehead.

"Sleep well, Marian."

"Where are you going?" her eyes opened.

"Downstairs, to keep watch."

"Stay," she commanded. Her voice was quiet, but firm.

"Alright."

She moved over to make space for him.

"In bed with you?"

"Robin of Locksley, I almost married a man I do not love today. I realized that I get to choose with whom I share a bed." She blushed at her boldness. "I promise not to throw you out again."

Robin found her little speech (and her blush) endearing. "Budge up, then." He settled next to her. It had been a long time indeed since he had rested on a mattress, and he tried not to groan with pleasure.

She rolled over to her left side and bumped knees with him. He traced her cheek with his fingertips again. Her eyelids were drooping even as she watched him. Marian's face betrayed no emotion, apart from exhaustion.

Robin slowly kissed her.

She carefully kissed him back. After a heartbeat or two, Robin retreated.

Marian smiled at him. "Sweet dreams, Dear Heart," she said, closing her eyes.

Robin did not dream. He did not even sleep. He kept watch on the house, he kept watch over her. How could he sleep when this reality was better than his wildest dreams?

The moonlight streamed in, highlighting her features, the way her face wrinkled or relaxed as she dreamed, the slow and steady rhythm of her breath. Robin took in every moment, not quite believing his luck. He had been so close to losing her, to Gisbourne's blade, and impossibly, Gisbourne's ring. The moon set, the grey light of dawn filtered in. Robin knew he should go back to his gang, but did not want to leave without speaking to Marian again, and he did not want to wake her. His gang would keep.

The sun had risen properly when Marian finally opened her eyes.

"Good morning, Marian," he greeted her.

She smiled, "Good morning, Robin."

He threw an arm around her, "Tell me the truth, would you rather wake to me, or to Gisbourne?"

"You are a fool, Robin," her eyes twinkled at him answering his question without a word.

She lay there, warm in his embrace.

"I still cannot believe you punched Gisbourne!"

She laughed. "In the face! I put his ugly ring on my right hand. The priest tried to tell me it went on the left. I was so tired of men telling me what to do, that I ripped off the front of my veil and threw the punch."

Robin laughed with her. It felt so good to laugh with her, something they had done when they were children, before he left for the Holy Land. Laughter. Pure and simple joy. And relief that she had not gone through with the wedding. After a few more moments of giggling, they relaxed into each other again.

"Of course, Sir Guy will not be happy about being jilted in that manner," Marian said pensively.

Robin sighed, "That is why I stayed the night."

"How chivalrous of you."

"You cannot stay here, Marian."

"Why not?"

"I cannot protect you here."

"I do not need your protection. I was the one who punched Gisbourne, remember?"

"Marian, be serious. You should come to the forest with me," he pleaded, brushing her dark hair back from her face.

"That is even more dangerous than remaining here."

"Please, Marian."

She sighed, but did not move away. She found his hand and squeezed it gently. "You know I cannot. And you know why. My father cannot live in the forest."

"We can find a safe place for him, outside of Nottingham."

"So he will be separated from me? Robin, no."

He sighed.

"Can we just enjoy each other's company a little longer?" she asked. "I do not want to speak of the past, or the future. I only want to stay here with you."

He did not answer her, but wrapped her tighter in his arms, as tightly as the secrets that they kept from proper society.

The day, at least, was theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from fanfiction.net, and edited slightly to match up with my own continuity.


End file.
